


Donut Test my Patience

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Adara Birthday Celebration [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is the BEST Boyfriend, Donut Arguments, Established Relationship, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Injured Stiles Stilinski, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 04:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: “See?See?! Death by donut. You’re trying to kill me.”“Because you shoved an entire Boston cream into your mouth while lying down? Clearly, all my doing. You’ve uncovered my maniacal plan to be rid of you forever, whatever will I do now?”Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. “I liked you betterbeforeyou had a sense of humour.”“I’ve always had a sense of humour.”“Nope. Not true. Complete lie.”





	Donut Test my Patience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adara/gifts).



> Happy Birthday [Adara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adara/pseuds/adara)!!!
> 
> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis

When Stiles had asked Derek to pick up a box of donuts for him to help soothe the indescribable pain he was in after a particularly rough outing, he’d expected Derek to be smart and know exactly what donuts Stiles wanted.

After all, they’d been friends for over four years, and dating for an additional two. It stood to reason that if anyone should know Stiles’ donut choices, it was his boyfriend. Because that was a thing boyfriends did. They paid attention.

Stiles, for example, could say he had no idea what Derek’s favourite donut was, because Derek had not once bought a donut in his presence. But he _did_ know that Derek’s favourite burger was bacon cheeseburger, because Stiles was a good boyfriend and he paid attention to these things.

And, unlike Derek, Stiles had bought many a donut in Derek’s presence and thus, logically, it stood to reason that he would know exactly what donuts to get when he went to buy them for Stiles because he was in pain and suffering.

_Suffering_! He needed donuts and his boyfriend to make the pain go away. One for sugary goodness, and the other for cuddles and pain-sucking mojo. The cuddling was very important, though.

When the door opened ten minutes after Stiles’ cry for donuts, he was so relieved he almost managed to sit completely upright. He was still in too much pain to do so, though, and just ended up in some weird half-raised position on the couch, smiling when Derek walked into the room carrying a box of Dunkin’ Donuts.

“My hero,” he proclaimed, lying down once more and doing grabby hands at the box. It looked like Derek had bought a dozen, bless him. Stiles was eager to dig in, knowing that while he doped up on sugar, he was probably going to get pain-suckage mojo _and_ cuddles.

Dating a Werewolf was the best.

“You’re going to make a mess,” Derek informed him with a sigh, setting the box on the coffee table beside him and turning to go to the kitchen. He was presumably going to get plates, and maybe paper towels.

Stiles couldn’t wait that long.

He rolled onto his side and eagerly opened the lid, rubbing his hands together and inspecting the doughey goodness awaiting him.

The excitement quickly died out, because his eyes kept going over the donuts repeatedly, but none of them were his favourite. Sure, there was a Boston cream, and a few chocolate glazed ones, but where was his jelly donut? Why were there plain glazed donuts? Why were there _four_ cinnamon donuts?

Where was his jelly donut?!

“Derek,” he called, looking up when said man wandered back into the living room with two plates and some paper towel. “Where’s my jelly donut? And what’s with the cinnamon donuts? You got, like, two of the six donuts I actually like, and none of those two are my favourite.”

“Jelly donuts are disgusting,” Derek informed him, grabbing a plain glazed and taking a bite out of it.

“Uh, no they’re not? They’re delicious? Also, I’m the one injured, why would it matter if you hate it or not?”

“I went to get them,” Derek reminded him, taking another bite of his donut.

Stiles stared at him. “You are the _worst_ boyfriend. I can’t believe you didn’t get me my _favourite_ donut!”

“I got you a Boston cream.”

“Yeah, _one_.” Stiles held up one finger. “You got me _one_ Boston cream, which is my _second_ favourite donut. And you got three chocolate glazed which, okay, fine, those are good, but they’re my _third_ choice. Like, what’s this? What’s this garbage?” He pointed at one of the cinnamon donuts. “Why is this atrocity in my box of donuts?”

“What’s wrong with cinnamon?” Derek scowled, reaching for one of the _four_ cinnamon donuts, even though he hadn’t finished the plain glazed one he was holding. “Cinnamon is delicious.”

“Not on a donut! In like, a pie, or a cinnamon bun, sure, but not a donut! Powdered jelly donuts are _the_ only donut worth having. It’s that, or nothing.”

“Those ones are disgusting and overly sweet, they’ll rot your teeth.” Derek shoved the rest of the plain glazed into his mouth, chewing while he picked up the Boston cream and held it out to Stiles. “Here, just eat this and you’ll feel better. You don’t _need_ a whole box of donuts, anyway.”

Stiles sputtered, snatching the Boston cream from Derek’s hand and pointing his other finger at him angrily. “Are you calling me fat?!”

“No, I am not calling you fat, Stiles,” Derek sighed. “I’m worried about your sugar intake.”

“Is that why you are depriving me of a powdered jelly donut while I am lying here in pain after having been used as a rag doll during our last fight?”

“Scott and I both told you to stay home, that’s not my fault.”

Stiles’ mouth opened, but no sound came out. Was this conversation actually happening? Derek didn’t want him out fighting the good fight anymore? And even worse, when he _did_ go out and fight the good fight, Derek wasn’t even going to be kind enough to buy him a _jelly donut_?!

He pointed at the front door. “You are going _back_ to Dunkin’ Donuts _right now_ and getting me an entire _dozen_ jelly donuts.”

Derek stared at him, then very deliberately took a bite of his cinnamon donut. “Am I now?”

“Yes!”

Derek didn’t move. He just stood there, chewing on his donut, watching Stiles as if he thought he could wait him out. Sometimes, he could. Derek could be almost as stubborn as Stiles when he wanted to be.

But not when it came to donuts! Not when Stiles was in pain, and in need of sugar and cuddles and pain-sucking mojo. He wasn’t going to sit here—er, _lie_ here and take this from Derek! He’d asked him to get him donuts, and by God, he was going to get them!

“Who even likes cinnamon donuts _anyway_?!” Stiles blurted out angrily after a few moments of silence.

“I do,” Derek informed him, snatching a second one from the box and taking a bite. “Cinnamon is good for you.”

“On what planet?!”

“This one.”

“Stop trying to make me less angry with your attempts at humour,” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him again. The Boston cream in his other hand was starting to sag a little bit. If he didn’t eat it now, he was liable to drop it on himself.

He angrily stuffed the donut into his mouth, cream exploding down his throat and almost choking him. Derek rolled his eyes and grabbed at him to make him sit up. Stiles only protested a little bit, because it _hurt_ , but choking hurt more. He pulled the half-eaten donut from his mouth and coughed, struggling to breathe through the creamy goodness. Once he could actually function like a regular human being once more, he wiped one hand across his mouth and waved the donut at Derek.

“See? _See_?! Death by donut. You’re trying to kill me.”

“Because you shoved an entire Boston cream into your mouth while lying down? Clearly, all my doing. You’ve uncovered my maniacal plan to be rid of you forever, whatever will I do now?”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. “I liked you better _before_ you had a sense of humour.”

“I’ve always had a sense of humour.”

“Nope. Not true. Complete lie.” Stiles shoved one quarter of what was left of his donut into his mouth, chewing sadly. He’d really, _really_ been looking forward to his jelly donut and now he was stuck with all this other crap he didn’t like.

He supposed he could eat the chocolate ones, and maybe some of the plain glazed ones, but none of them were what he _wanted_. And no matter what Derek said, those jelly ones were the best and they were _not_ too sweet. Stiles’ sugar intake was just _fine_ , thank you! Especially considering his likely very short life span. If he wanted to have a sugar overload while in pain, that was his right as a human being who almost died on a regular basis! Moreso than other human beings!

The two of them ate in silence, Stiles sitting up on the couch and Derek in front of him across the coffee table. Stiles had just reached for one of the chocolate donuts when Derek let out a loud sigh and rolled his eyes, wiping his sugary fingers on his jeans.

“If I go and get you a jelly donut, will you stop moping?”

Stiles perked up instantly. “You would be the _bestest_ boyfriend _ever_ if you went to get me a jelly donut.”

Derek rolled his eyes again, clearly trying to find patience, then moved around the coffee table to kiss Stiles’ temple. “You are _so_ whiny.”

“It’s why you love me,” Stiles informed him with a grin.

“It’s really not.” He kissed his temple again and then straightened. “I’ll be back. Try not to eat that whole box while I’m gone.”

“Your cinnamon donuts are safe,” Stiles informed him.

Derek left the house and Stiles heard the Camaro start up and drive off a moment later.

He would’ve felt guilty about Derek going off to buy more donuts except he knew Derek wouldn’t do it if he really didn’t want to. Besides, Stiles was making him dinner tonight, so fair was fair.

And hopefully when Derek got back, Stiles could get some pain-sucking mojo done because _wow_ was he ever in pain, good Lord. If he weren’t positive he didn’t have any broken bones, he’d consider going to see Melissa. But he could still feel his toes, so he knew he was fine.

Stiles finished off his chocolate donut and then eyed one of Derek’s cinnamon ones. He wondered how much trouble he’d get into if he tried it, then figured Derek was probably out buying _more_ cinnamon donuts for himself, so he picked it up and took a bite.

He immediately gagged because, while he did like cinnamon, a cinnamon donut was just overwhelming. It was different from a cinnamon bun somehow. He figured the bun had a balance of dough, frosting, cinnamon and brown sugar. The donut was just _cinnamon_ and it was entirely too much for him.

Setting it back down, and knowing Derek would give him a look for the theft after he’d specifically said his cinnamon donuts were safe, Stiles grabbed a second chocolate one and munched on it while waiting for Derek to come back.

He realized he could’ve turned on the television, but the remote was on his dad’s armchair and that was just _so far_. It was easier to just sit there and daydream while he waited for Derek to come back.

And come back he did, ten minutes later. When he walked through the front door with the new box of donuts, another full dozen, Stiles felt like it might be too much to hope for.

Derek sat down beside him and put the box on the coffee table, eying the cinnamon donut with a bite taken out of it before giving Stiles a look. He grinned at him innocently and Derek scoffed.

“Good thing I know you so well.” He opened the new box, and Stiles was in heaven.

There were _nine_ powdered jelly donuts, two more Boston creams, and a lone cinnamon donut that Derek had probably bought in case Stiles devoured one of his gross atrocities.

“You are the _best_ boyfriend,” Stiles informed him.

“Uh huh, I heard that not half an hour ago, and then it was taken back because _my_ boyfriend is a fickle asshole.”

Stiles nudged him but grabbed at one of his donuts, taking a huge bite of it. Powdered sugar ended up on his cheeks and nose, but he didn’t care, licking his lips and chewing happily, using one finger from his free hand to swipe at the jelly leaking out of the donut. He stuck that finger into his mouth, then took another huge bite of his donut.

“You’re going to have a heart attack eating those,” Derek informed him, leaning back on the couch with the started cinnamon donut in one hand. “I still don’t know how you can eat those. They’re disgusting.”

“Your _face_ is disgusting.”

“And now we’ve reverted to schoolhouse insults. Wonderful.” Derek sighed and tugged at Stiles so that he’d lean back and into him. Stiles complied, letting out a small sigh of relief when he felt some of his pain ebbing, Derek’s arm wrapped around him and rubbing gently at his arm.

“I hate it when you get hurt,” Derek muttered.

“Likewise, big guy.” Stiles frowned. “I mean about you. I hate it when _you_ get hurt.”

“I heal.”

“I heal, too.”

Derek gave him a look. “You know what I mean, Stiles. Don’t be a brat.”

Stiles poked Derek in the stomach. “I will take being injured any day of the week if it means I get to have your back in a fight.”

All he received in response was a long, deep sigh, like Derek knew better than to argue. Which he kind of did, at this point. Stiles grinned and snuggled into his side more, finishing his donut, and then making grabby hands at the box.

Derek obediently leaned forward, displacing Stiles slightly, and grabbed him another donut. Stiles started to take a bite, but heard Derek mutter something about it being disgusting under his breath.

He still had eight more jelly donuts, he could sacrifice one for the greater good.

“Hey Derek?”

“Ye—”

The second Derek’s mouth opened, Stiles twisted and shoved the donut he was holding into it. Derek let out a hacking sound, grabbing at Stiles’ wrist and wrenching it away before spitting the donut out of his mouth and coughing. There was powdered sugar and jelly all over his beard, and Stiles laughed at the fact that it made him look like an old man.

“You are ridiculous,” Derek insisted angrily, though his eyes betrayed how amused he was. He probably liked that Stiles was feeling better and not smelling like pain and misery.

“You love me that way.”

“Only sometimes.” Derek twisted and shoved Stiles back so he was lying on the couch, falling on top of him and boxing him in with his arms.

“Your face is covered in sugar!” Stiles insisted when Derek went to kiss him.

“And whose fault is that?”

Stiles felt like a child with how much he squirmed and laughed, Derek rubbing his sugary beard all across his cheek and mouth. When Derek went to pull away, Stiles grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and pulled him back down, slotting their lips together. It tasted overwhelmingly sweet, given how much sugar they both had on their faces, but Derek also had a hint of cinnamon because of his own donut.

Stiles wrapped his legs around his waist, Derek grabbing at one of his thighs to pull his leg up higher, and things were just about to get interesting for a lazy Sunday afternoon when someone cleared their throat loudly and they jerked apart.

Derek whipped around, still lying on top of Stiles with one leg held up, and Stiles leaned sideways to see past him at who was interrupting their fun times.

The sheriff was standing in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“Dad!” Stiles squeaked, shoving at Derek to get him off him. It wasn’t that his dad didn’t know they were together—he’d be a pretty terrible cop—it was more that Stiles didn’t need his dad around while he was trying to have a good time with his boyfriend. Nothing killed the mood faster than his dad walking in. “Hey, hi, hello!” Stiles hastily sat up, wiping at his mouth with one hand and likely just smearing sugar and jelly across his face. “How, uh, how long have you been home?”

His dad looked like he pitied his son when he answered. “All day.”

“All day?!” Stiles demanded, horrified. Derek winced beside him and Stiles turned to glare at him. He was a Werewolf, how had he not realized the sheriff was home?!

Then again, to be fair, he’d been pretty distracted by Stiles both times he’d shown up, and if his dad was just reading case files, he usually had them spread out on his desk and thus didn’t turn pages. No pages to turn, no sound for his Werewolf boyfriend to hear. Wasn’t like Derek made a habit of listening for his father’s heartbeat or breathing.

“I’ve been in the study,” his dad informed him, as if Stiles hadn’t already figured that out for himself. “You were getting suspiciously quiet, I thought it best I make my presence known before I could never sit on that couch again.”

Stiles was mortified. “Dad!”

Probably not the best time to tell him he _couldn’t_ sit on the couch ever again.

“Sorry,” Derek said softly, likely thinking about the same thing as Stiles.

The sheriff didn’t seem to catch on, though. It looked like he thought their reactions were for this moment in particular and no way was Stiles going to correct him!

“Mm hm. Try and keep it PG while I’m home, will you?” He started to turn, uncrossing his arms and heading for his study when he paused and shifted to point a finger at them both. “Oh, and another thing?”

Stiles raised his eyebrows, waiting.

His dad smiled slightly. “You’re both wrong. The only way to go is old fashioned. Plain and simple.”

“What?” Derek demanded incredulously.

“You’re crazy!” Stiles insisted, half-speaking over Derek.

“Don’t argue with someone wiser than the two of you put together.” The sheriff motioned them both then headed for the study once more. “PG, boys. Not under my roof.”

When they heard the door shut again, Stiles turned to Derek.

“We might not agree on the jelly versus cinnamon front, but please tell me we agree on the old fashioned front.”

“Absolutely,” Derek confirmed. “Your dad has horrible taste.”

Stiles nodded in agreement, and was glad that even if Derek had terrible taste in donuts, at least he had good taste where it mattered.

“Wanna go to the loft?”

Derek let out a small laugh. “Sure. No point in ruining your dad’s furniture any more than we already have.”

“We are _never_ telling him that.” Stiles stood. “I’ll go get changed. Don’t forget the donuts.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> Come chill with me on [Tumblr](https://isthatbloodonhisshirt.tumblr.com/).  
> (If it still exists by the time you read this lol)


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